The colors of her world

I wait to see the picture she posts.
The big green tea cup with honey and milk
and that whole grain bread with what I imagine to be butter, jam and a slice of good stinking cheese.
Oh I am hungry, always hungry, always craving, somebody else's toast and tea.
An imagined inner calmness which I can never find.
The knowledge of being, of being at peace within.
She only writes a few sentences that speak of design and simple day tasks, nothing much, really, nothing to expose the innards, yet she has the talent to convey so much in a simple picture.
Not all of them, I have no patience for pictures of view, of white winters somewhere far from here, Nature's beauty bores me to tears. But when she posts a cup of tea and the little bag of Finish cookies beside it on her simple table in her simple tasteful home, I just want to die in peace.
There is not simplicity in my life, even though I too live in simple home and I too love my simple home. Every corner in my little home captures so much beauty I could ever ask for more in my daily picture.
But my home is not mine, and my life is apt to change. At any give moment i expect the rug of stability to be pulled from under my feet and everything I have called my life will change abruptly.
That's how it is for me. And for a homebody Torus that 's enough to shake every cell of security I don't posses even before it ever actually happens.
I am in a place of extreme financial duress, everything we have done and worked so hard for has brought this family to this place.
And looking at the path we have chosen, although unconventional and stubborn, no doubt, I have to admit that some lives are simply not blessed with luck in certain respects, period.
Money never came my way, no matter what I did. It apparently was to be my curse.
So now I brace myself, trying to adjust my brain to the make friends with the change and instability that is about to befall my way. Me, a mother of two who will have to some how feed and bed two children who holey depend on my for their every breath.
Really it is due to the light in the cold land where she lives. It is the light which allows for that sombre yet alluring flavor, a hue, a glow.
I know it, still, even though I don't really want to live there, to me it is so delicious.
It is raining to day. very befitting of my gloomy mood, but we will be alright, I know it.
Somewhere along the way luck will finally find us, there is enough out there and I only ask for a little.
But in the meantime it's time to make those Olive Oil muffins (a recipe I've been dying to make for a while now). I can see the picture I'm gonna take already, of one half bitten muffin with crumbs on the plate and a big mug of green tea with honey and milk on the side. I will describe the sweet savory flavor meticulously. I promise. :-).